Losing Your Memory
by pondlilyrue
Summary: After an accident, Rachel Berry wakes up in the hospital, figuring out that three years have passed. She is popular now, with a perfect boyfriend and friends. Everything seems like a dream until the arrogant Warbler, Sebastian Smythe, drops a huge bomb on her. She would never do that though... Would she? Based on Remember Me by Sophie Kinsella. Smytheberry.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee or Remember Me by Sophie Kinsella (which this is based on). I just own the few twists and turns I added to the plot.

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**Losing Your Memory**

calamity

noun

an event causing great and often sudden damage or distress; a disaster

**Chapter One: **The Catalyst

I declared it an awful day as soon as the grape slushie landed on my face.

Even though it was my favorite flavor, the ice on my new blouse stung and the jeers of the jocks caused me to rush into the bathroom and clean it off. Glancing in the mirror, I questioned myself as to what caused everyone to hate me. My daddies said it was jealousy, but I think they only said that because I am their child, and they don't want to admit their only daughter is an absolute freak. A loser. A gleek.

I thanked God when I realized I had a spare change of clothes in my Louis Vuitton purse. I found a muted orange camisole and a sweater to put over my lacy white skirt. In the girl's bathroom, I attempted to regain my dignity as much as I could. Sure, I put a tough face on to let no one see my internal struggle, yet I am human and it hurts to know I don't have many friends in this school.

Once I left the bathroom, Kurt Hummel and Mercedes Jones caught up to me with a smile. Those two were my best friends in William McKinley High School. Kurt was a porcelain-skinned boy with an infinity for fashion and dramatics. Despite us being similar, we both got on well most of the time. Mercedes was gossipy yet trustworthy, though I am not sure I would trust her with my darkest secrets.

Not that I have any.

I tried to smile back, yet I couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that overcame me. It felt as if there was a raincloud hanging over my head, just waiting for the right time to drench me in its raindrops. "Hey," I nodded to them. "Where were you guys this morning?"

Kurt moistened his lips. "We were comforting Tina. She just broke up with Mike." That was news to me. Chang-Squared had been going strong since freshman year in this hell-hole. Kurt went on, "Apparently, she thought he has his eyes set on Brittany."

Mercedes' eyes twinkled, apparently engrossed with the latest New Directions gossip. "Although we are pretty sure they will get back together soon enough. Everyone knows Brittany loves Santana." That was true. Mercedes seemed to catch my somber expression. "Hey, Rach, what's wrong?"

I bit my lip. "Noah slushied me this morning," I admitted, playing with the hem of my skirt. If it was any other jock, it would've been easier to shake it off. But it so happened to be Noah Puckerman, my former best friend in elementary and middle school. Since we were both Jews, we hung out at the Temple and at family gatherings, yet we went separate ways once we arrived in high school. It felt like betrayal whenever the cold drink sunk into my face.

Kurt put a comforting arm around my shoulder. "He's a Neanderthal, Rach. A Lima Loser. Once we are all in New York, we'll forget all about Puckerman. Okay?"

I nodded sheepishly. Strange enough, I wasn't in the mood to talk today. Which was strange for me. I, Rachel Barbra Berry, was usual a very loquacious person who got a rise out of speaking loud and often. Yet that same feeling of foreboding wouldn't leave my shoulders.

"Let's get to English class," Mercedes suggested, fingering the strap of her Coco Chanel rip-off bag. We headed down the hallways, pretending to ignore the laughs of the jocks, and the cruel giggles of the Unholy Trinity. Santana, Quinn and Brittany walked past us, sending us sickly sweet smiles and covering their mouths with their hands when we turned away.

"Ignore the bitches," Kurt murmured.

The rest of the day passed like a rainy day. It was cold and dreary, sucking all the energy out of me. In History, I almost fell asleep, yet I tried to pay rapt attention to Mr. Calloway's lecture on the Civil War. Usually, I tried to immerse myself in a conversation with Mercedes and Kurt, but today just wasn't my day.

Finally, Glee Club arrived, and I was walking down the hallway, letting out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. Just after this, I would be able to go home, put my hair in a messy bun, throw on my Dance sweats, and watch Funny Girl accompanied with a large-sized tub of Ben and Jerry's I get from the general store. It sounded like the perfect ending to a crappy day for me.

My plan for escape failed though once I saw David Karofsky walking down the hallway with a set jaw. Once Kurt saw him, he flinched, though he tried to hide it. Ever since the disastrous kiss, Kurt had tried to keep as much of a distance as he could from the bully. A smirk lit up his face as he sauntered over to where my friend was.

"Hummel," He began. Kurt tried to shake off the trembling that ran through his hands and his legs, yet I knew how fearful my friend was. It was unfortunate that Blaine wasn't here; I knew that he could pack a good punch for his size. Finn could tell you that from firsthand experience.

"How's the fairy doing today?" Karofsky asked. Kurt swallowed hard and murmured something under his breath. I could only catch 'prada.' "Huh? Couldn't hear you?"

"Leave him alone," I said through gritted teeth, having enough of his poor treatment of Kurt and all my friends.

The hallway became quiet. Too quiet. It seemed as if every head turned to stare at me – I, Rachel Berry, the biggest loser of the school was telling off Karofksy, the big bad wolf.

"Just because _he _has the courage to express who he is, unlike _you_, doesn't mean that you have to push him around for it. David, don't you dream of not being ashamed of who you are? Or are you too worried about when your little secret is going to come out? Huh? Unless you get yourself together and apologize for your wrongdoings and get your life on track, I suggest you leave me and my friends alone."

For a second, Karofsky almost looked fearful. His beady eyes widened, and he glanced around at the incoming crowd like it was going to swallow him up. I was breathing heavily from my rant, hands clenched into fists, glaring at the bully. He turned around to face me once more, and, once I caught sight of his eyes, I knew I was in trouble.

Karofsky was furious. His pale skin reddened until it resembled a strawberry, his meaty hands fisted, and I wouldn't have been surprised if smoke was eliciting from his ears. I tried to back away, but it was too late. I was in a vulnerable position, right at the top of a staircase leading to the bottom floor of the school building.

The inevitable then, of course, happened. Karofsky let out a puff, and then he put his beafy hands on my chest and shoved me until I was sent flying down the stairs.

I don't remember much. Just impact, really. And the one thought that kept circling through my head was:

_This is going to hurt._


End file.
